


Local Customs

by miera



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-22
Updated: 2012-05-22
Packaged: 2017-11-05 19:31:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/410187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miera/pseuds/miera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a trade negotiation, Weir and Sheppard are "obliged to take part in an indigenous ritual affirming a clan-bond." Then things go really sideways. Mostly a gen story with hints of UST.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Local Customs

Eidalos was John's kind of planet -- warm and sunny climate, nonviolent people living in enormous extended-family groups. They enjoyed any reason to throw a party, including welcoming new friends.

Granted, they didn't have any cool technology that would help defeat the Wraith, but one of the clans was sitting on top of an abundant supply of a raw mineral that would be useful in keeping the puddle jumpers repaired. So Elizabeth was here negotiating for the chance to mine some of the stuff. The people were mostly friendly and eager to trade, so it probably wouldn't be a hard deal for her to pull off.

The only thing bothering him was the clan's request that her security escort be limited to two people. Some of the other Eidalan families were nervous about alliances being formed with strangers, and the presence of an entire team of Marines in the settlement would have caused problems. For once, Elizabeth had been the one ready and willing to throw protocols out the window, while he tried to argue for sticking to them and insisting she have four guards. He lost.

So it was him and Ronon watching her back. Teyla was away on a negotiating trip of her own on behalf of her people, and Rodney been fine with staying in his labs on Atlantis with Radek instead of sitting through trade negotiations, although he'd pestered Elizabeth about exactly how much of the mineral they would need and tests that needed to be done until she raised her eyebrow at him and assured him she got it. Ronon was here because he was always happier on any mission than not.

John was here because the Eidalans would only allow two guards and he was going to make damn sure nothing happened as a result of that restriction.

The view from the clan's settlement was stunning. The planet, or at least this part of it, was all rolling hills and pure blue lakes, which hid some of the scarring from the recent culling. Elizabeth said it reminded her of the Finger Lakes in New York. The sun was warm on his back, and the sounds of the village behind him were soothing. John walked the perimeter, passing the enormous waterfall that cut through the stone of the planet's bedrock. He wondered idly if the Eidalans would have any use for hydroelectric power, if a basic water wheel could be set up. He made a mental note to mention it to Elizabeth. Eidalos wouldn't have been a bad place for some vacation time. The mainland on Atlantis was nice, but it didn't hold a candle to this.

John was sure Major Lorne would've been happy to take this assignment. In fact, Lorne had looked a little pissed when John volunteered to accompany Elizabeth back to Eidalos for the meetings. Ever since they got back from their misadventure with the hive ship and Ford, John had noticed Lorne acting a little protective of Elizabeth. It was clear that in John's absence, Lorne had stepped up to the plate as acting commander, which was fine with John. Anything that kept Caldwell's hands off his people was okay by him. What wasn't fine was that Lorne seemed to be nursing a crush on their fearless leader and that just wasn't professional. It would be better for Lorne not to be in too much close contact with Dr. Weir for a while.

John was just doing his job, keeping everyone safe, even from something as non-lethal as embarrassment.

Murmuring behind him pulled John's attention away from the view to see Elizabeth walking towards him from the meeting hall where she'd been all morning. She seemed outwardly calm but something in her face brought him to full alert. He followed her into the small cabin that had been offered for their use during the negotiations, Ronon three steps behind him.

Elizabeth was frowning, one hand rubbing her forehead -- never a good sign. Catching sight of them, she sighed. "Ronon, I need a moment with Colonel Sheppard."

The big guy bristled just a little, darting a glance at John. Elizabeth smiled reassuringly. "There's no danger, I just need to speak with him about something."

John nodded and Ronon went back outside. John waited a little nervously. Elizabeth had said there was no danger, specifically, which meant something else was wrong. Damn it, why did even the simplest trade negotiation have to go sideways out here?

Elizabeth sat down at the small table inside the cabin. There was a low bench along one wall, and the table had two chairs and a small lamp resting in the center. "There's a hitch."

"What?" he asked, worried and also curious about the redness in her face.

"They want us to get married."

***

"I'm sorry?" John couldn't have heard that right.

Elizabeth sighed and rested her head in her hands. "Eidalos is a clan-based society. Clan leaders are responsible for handling negotiations with outsiders."

He nodded. He knew all that already.

"Unmarried women have no legal status here," Elizabeth went on. He could see the flicker of annoyance go across her face. "When a woman marries, she becomes part of her husband's clan, and has all the same rights as everyone else within that clan." One of the council of clan leaders Elizabeth was negotiating with was a woman, middle-aged, named Pira, who had clucked over Elizabeth, John and Ronon like a graying mother-hen.

"What if someone doesn't want to get married?" he asked and then swallowed as Elizabeth shot him a look. "Right." Most of the societies in Pegasus were subsistence level. There was no such thing as a "lifestyle choice" for these people. You married young and made a lot of babies and hoped some of them might survive the next culling.

"So, as an unmarried woman, according to their laws, I don't have the right to negotiate with them on our behalf."

"So I'll do it," he said immediately. "You can be here and keep an eye on things but I'll do the talking."

Elizabeth was already shaking her head. "I thought of that. The problem is you identified yourself as a member of my clan already, and indicated that you're not in charge, which means they can't negotiate with you either."

"I indicated that you were the leader of the clan I belong to, so why isn't that enough?" he protested.

"Because it isn't," Elizabeth snapped and then immediately winced, at herself and not him, he knew. "They know that you recognize me as the clan leader, and that our people do, but they can't deal with me unless I'm married under their laws."

"And because you're supposed to be the head of my clan..." he waved a hand at the space between them and she nodded. "How do they know I'm not already married?" Elizabeth's cheeks turned a brighter shade of pink and that answered that question. "Oops."

She avoided looking at him. "Sorry."

He sighed.

There was a long, awkward silence.

"It wouldn't be legally binding anywhere else," Elizabeth said slowly.

"You're seriously considering this?" he asked incredulously.

"If you've got another idea, Colonel, this would be a good time," she retorted.

He sulked a little, but she was right. They needed these metal deposits. Despite having semi-regular contact with Earth, Atlantis could be cut off again at any time. They couldn't rely on the Daedalus for vital supplies. They had to get this deal arranged, and the Eidalans already knew Elizabeth was in charge, so they wouldn't talk to anyone else.

He folded his arms over his P-90. "What exactly is involved?"

"A simple ritual, witnesses, some vows exchanged, something to do with water and a binding that I didn't really follow." She was watching him closely. He knew Elizabeth would never order him to do this, but then she also knew he'd do just about anything she asked. Even if it was crazy.

"And what about us?" Her eyes widened and he hurried to explain himself. "I mean, how do we handle this back home? Stargate Command is going to go nuts if they find out we got married, legally binding or not."

She shrugged. "Why do we have to tell them?"

John's jaw dropped. Then he grinned. "Dr. Weir, are you suggesting we lie to our superiors?" he asked, pretending to be shocked.

Elizabeth looked as close to "mischievous" as she ever got. "I'm saying we omit the word 'marriage' when we write the report. We say we were obliged to take part in an indigenous ritual affirming a clan-bond to satisfy the Eidalan customs and leave it at that."

Never, ever try to out-BS a diplomat, he thought ruefully.

"That would cover it," he said aloud. Which was for the best, since the absolute last thing either of them needed was for the rest of Atlantis to hear the word "marriage" in connection with the two of them. There were already enough rumors flying around. Plus Rodney would never let him hear the end of it.

Though, now that he thought of reactions, John almost wished he could see Lorne's face hearing the news.

Elizabeth was apparently thinking along the same lines. "What about Ronon?"

John shook his head. "He won't say anything if I ask him not to. And he's not really the type to shoot his mouth off, you know?"

Elizabeth gave him a small smile at that, and stood up a little stiffly. "So, are we going to go through with this?"

It was a question, not an order. But they didn't have much of a choice.

"You're not going to go down on one knee?" he asked. Just because they weren't telling anyone else about this didn't mean he wasn't going to get in his fair share of teasing Elizabeth in private.

She merely raised her eyebrow at him.

***

The reality of what was happening started to hit him when he was standing in front of the entire council of clan leaders, with Ronon looming back near the door of the meeting house. John was facing Elizabeth, trying not to zone out as the minister talked about the importance of clan-bonds and keeping them strong. Something about a plant and a root system; John had lost track of the metaphor a while ago.

He had a blue tunic over his t-shirt. He'd removed his vest and his P-90, but his 9 millimeter was still strapped to his thigh. Bad jokes about shotgun weddings kept crossing his mind. They hadn't been obliged to change completely out of their clothes, though Pira had argued about that with Marrin, who was the head of the clan and seemed to be the regulations fascist behind this whole mess. Elizabeth suggested the compromise of covering themselves in some traditional Eidalan garments for the ceremony.

He nearly made a crack about being grateful the Eidalans weren't like the Betazeds from Star Trek, but he didn't think Elizabeth would get the reference, and he didn't really want to explain it to her under these circumstances.

She was looking attentively at the priest, and even after all this time and up close, he couldn't tell for certain if she was actually listening or had perfected this expression to fool anyone into thinking she was paying attention and was instead playing Anywhere But Here. Elizabeth was wrapped in a shawl of a bright greenish-blue color. John thought it made her eyes stand out.

When he realized he was standing there in front of a priest, thinking about Elizabeth's eyes, it began to sink in that they were getting married. Not "for real" but still. Married. Him and Elizabeth.

This was a new level of absurd, even for the Pegasus Galaxy.

John was still glad he hadn't sent Lorne on this mission.

The priest came to the close of the lengthy prayer and John heard a distinct murmur of relief in the room. Pira and Marrin moved in and John found himself with his hands out in front of him, holding both of Elizabeth's hands. It was time for the vows.

She caught his eye for a second and even though she didn't smile he saw a wicked gleam of amusement in her eyes.

Oh no. He was already close to cracking up. The last thing they needed was for them both to get the giggles right now. That wouldn't do much for their friendly relations with the Eidalans. The priest turned to him and prompted him, "John Sheppard, do you accept this woman as a member of your clan through her bond to you?"

"I do," he said, sheer willpower keeping his voice steady. Elizabeth wouldn't look him in the eye, so he squeezed her hands a little more tightly. He saw the muscle in her cheek twitch and knew she was just as close to losing it as he was.

Elizabeth fixed her gaze on his neck or maybe his chin and when the priest asked, "Elizabeth Weir, do you acknowledge membership in this clan and promise your loyalty and life to its well-being?" she said "I do" rather hurriedly.

Pira handed him a small earthenware cup of water. This was going to be the trickiest part. He held the cup to Elizabeth's lips to let her drink, nearly spilling water all over her because he was still trying not to laugh. When she glared at him over the rim of the cup he blinked, trying to look innocent.

Elizabeth took the cup, held it up for him and for a second he thought she was going to slosh water all over him just to get even, but she didn't.

Marrin took the cup away and John had a mental image of the man stomping on the mug and shouting "Mazel tov!" and the damn giggles were back full force.

He looked towards Elizabeth, to see if she was thinking the same thing, but she was looking at a tray that had just been placed on the table next to the priest. Her expression made the urge to laugh die abruptly.

Several shiny, pointy objects that looked a hell of a lot like needles were on the tray.

***

Thoughts of poisons, drugs and a dozen other highly dangerous and painful uses for the needles whipped through John's mind. He stepped forward automatically, trying to put himself between Elizabeth and the priest.

Ronon was suddenly standing next to them, hand on his gun, ready for anything.

Elizabeth turned to look at the woman behind her. "Pira?" There was no concealing the worry in her voice.

Pira frowned a little. "This is the binding mark. You will be adorned with the identifying mark of your new clan so that all will know your affiliation." Pira held up her arm and below her elbow was a small symbol, clearly visible even through the wrinkles on her skin.

John relaxed a fraction. No one had mentioned anything about tattoos, but at least it wasn't something worse.

"That's not necessary," he said before Elizabeth could speak. "Our clan all knows who Elizabeth is already."

Marrin glowered and John felt Elizabeth tense further. "Of course your clan knows its own, but outsiders must be able to quickly identify clan alliances. What if Elizabeth Weir was kidnapped and no mark found on her? She could be given to another clan."

Elizabeth tried to be reasonable. "We wear uniforms, Marrin, as a mark of our allegiance. I do not go into the company of strangers except in my uniform, which identifies me as part of my clan."

"Clothes can be changed," Marrin said stubbornly.

"Listen," John tried again. "The fact is, no one in our clan bears a mark of any kind. I don't have one, so there isn't one to match that you can give Elizabeth."

The room erupted into talking and John bit his tongue. He knew enough about the first contacts to know that he might have just caused a lot of damage. But the whole reason they agreed to go through with this ceremony was that it wouldn't be permanent for them, and matching tattoos was pretty damned permanent, not to mention hard to hide.

Marrin eyed Ronon suspiciously. "This one bears a mark, on his neck." He pointed to the tattoo on the big guy's throat.

Ronon glared at Marrin the way he tended to do right before beating the crap out of someone. Elizabeth spoke up quickly. "Ronon was originally a member of another clan, as I told you. We adopted him into our family after he lost all his people."

"So he bears a mark of one clan, and his clothes do not match yours. How is he identified as part of your clan, then? How can you be sure strangers will know to whom he is loyal?" Marrin asked triumphantly.

John had a feeling that underneath the tight expression on her face, Elizabeth was cursing to herself like a drill sergeant.

People around them were still babbling. He caught snippets, comments about the lack of a unifying clan mark, the confusion about Ronon's status, and questions about the reliability of a clan that didn't have pride in itself. All the noise carried an undercurrent of tension that hadn't been there at any point during their visits until now.

They were losing the Eidalans' trust.

Elizabeth heard the same things. She glanced at him as Pira and the priest were arguing. He read the question on her face and shrugged.

Elizabeth turned. "Pira? Colonel Sheppard and I will both go through with the rest of the ceremony and the binding, but I want it clear, we are doing this to honor your traditions. Ronon is not to be involved in this."

John knew there was no chance in hell Ronon would have tolerated being forced to participate. And Marrin wasn't going to accept Elizabeth and John refusing the tattoo part since the uniform excuse had just been shredded. Elizabeth was trying to pull off some fancy footwork to extricate them before this whole thing went to hell. If she and John both got the mark, it should satisfy the Eidalan requirements, but Elizabeth pointedly exempting Ronon was a way for them to hang on to the illusion of having control over the situation.

Even though the past couple of years had taught him a great deal, he still really, really hated politics.

Pira seemed to get it because she nodded amiably. "Of course."

"There is one other condition," Elizabeth went on. "Colonel Sheppard is prohibited by our military regulations from bearing any visible marks on his skin, so the binding mark must be somewhere else other than his lower arm."

John blinked, taking about half a second to catch up to that lie. A mark below the elbow would be too obvious, she was right. It would be better for them both if it was put someplace easier to conceal.

Marrin frowned and opened his mouth like he was going to object again. The priest, surprisingly, cut him off. "We would not wish to violate your laws in asking you to accede to ours, of course."

The priest, Pira and Elizabeth began discussing aesthetic details and John let out a deep breath.

Well, he went to Eidalos and got married, and apparently all he was going to get out of it was a lousy tattoo.

***

The crude needle hurt like hell as it punched into the soft skin on John's upper arm. He winced. At least they had been able to explain the idea of sterilizing metal to the priest. The needles had all been held in a candle flame, so they weren't likely to pick up any nasty infections as a bonus.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, it doesn't hurt that much."

"It hurts enough," he shot back. She was already done. One of the bandages from his vest was taped over a small patch of skin on her upper left arm. She was walking restlessly around the room while the priest worked on him.

"It didn't hurt nearly as much as my other one," Elizabeth said and then froze.

"You have another tattoo?" he asked, surprise making it easier to ignore the priest stabbing him. He thought back over what he had seen of Elizabeth's body - which wasn't much, to be honest, though he'd seen most of her arms and legs on a couple of rare occasions when he ran into her going to or from the gym, or that one memorable time when an accident in a lab had summoned everyone to the control room in the middle of the night in their pajamas. In Elizabeth's case that had meant a tank top, shorts and a bathrobe she hadn't tied tightly enough. Which meant the other tattoo wasn't anywhere obvious...

John knew the look on his face was morphing into a rather lascivious smirk. Elizabeth glared, and there was one more sharp jab that seemed a little rougher than necessary. When he turned to frown at the priest, the elderly man just smiled at him innocently. "Finished."

He looked down. The priest was pretty good. Under a thin layer of blood, a fairly accurate replica of the gate symbol for Atlantis now adorned his upper left arm. Elizabeth went to work cleaning the mark with antiseptic and bandaging it.

It was actually going to be kind of cool, when it stopped bleeding. Maybe he'd show it to Rodney after all. If Elizabeth would let him.

They left the meeting house and were greeted by cheers and well wishes. The three of them made their way to the visitor's cabin, where they could rest for a couple of hours before the evening meal, which would be another celebration. Their wedding banquet, although John fervently hoped it wouldn't involve the two of them having to try and mash food into each others' faces.

In the morning, thankfully, finally, Elizabeth could get down to the actual business of negotiating the mineral rights.

John pulled out a power bar once they were in the cabin and offered half of it to Elizabeth. She refused, holding her arm gingerly and pacing back and forth. She'd taken a couple mild painkillers after the priest had finished with her, but John didn't like taking anything while he was off-world, so he sat on the bench, chewed the power bar and resisted poking at the throbbing spot on his arm. Ronon had gone to the gate to report in to Atlantis that they were staying for the evening meal. John stared out the window, watching the village begin to settle as the sun went down. He spotted Ronon returning and leaned against the wall. He was a bit sleepy, what with this being the happiest day of his life and all, and his eyes were flickering closed when the door opened as Ronon came back.

Elizabeth jumped about four feet into the air.

Ronon tensed into a fighting stance in response, but there was nothing there except Elizabeth, who had one hand pressed against her heart.

"Elizabeth?" John frowned. She was breathing heavily, and as he got up and got closer, he could see her skin was glistening, like she was sweating a lot. But her body was trembling.

Her eyes were wide in the low light of the cabin, darting around the small room like a cornered animal's. Ronon took a couple steps towards her and she backed away. Suddenly she bolted for the door, trying to run around him. Ronon grabbed her around the waist and she screamed and started to struggle. John took her by the shoulders, "Elizabeth!"

"I have to get out of here! They're coming!" she yelled in a panic.

"Who? Who's coming?"

She pointed towards one of the corners. "The Wraith!"

The cabin was empty. John shared a look with Ronon. "Elizabeth, there's nothing there," he said to her slowly.

Elizabeth stared, looking from him to the corner and back. She shook her head a little, like she was trying to clear it. "John?" she said again. She seemed more focused, and Ronon relaxed his grip on her when she stopped struggling, but didn't let her go entirely. She swayed a little on her feet, leaning into Ronon to stay upright.

John grabbed her hand. Her skin was hot to the touch. "Elizabeth, what's wrong?" John was edging towards panic himself.

"I don't know. I'm... I feel feverish, but then I'm freezing. I can't stay still. I can't... oh God, it's so warm..." Her eyes rolled a little and she looked like she might faint.

John's other hand found her wrist. Her pulse was racing alarmingly. He took hold of her arm. "Get Pira, Marrin and that priest over here, now," John snapped to Ronon, who drew his gun as he left the room.

John led her to the table and managed to light the candle in the lamp with a match. Elizabeth flinched back from the light and when he lifted her chin with his fingers and made her look at him, her pupils were dilated. This was so not good.

Elizabeth jerked away from his touch and started moving restlessly around the room. Her steps were a bit uneven and she was weaving. She started muttering rapidly, gesturing like she was talking to someone, and he couldn't make out the words. She had her arm folded across her body.

Her left arm, he realized belatedly.

John pulled her to a stop. She practically growled at him, looking ready to try and escape again. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He lifted her shirt sleeve very carefully. The skin around and under the bandage was red and swollen. "Elizabeth? I think you're having a reaction to that tattoo," he said as calmly as he could, not wanting to upset her further. He checked his own arm, but there was no corresponding redness and other than the knot of fear in his stomach, he felt okay.

Elizabeth blinked at him for a minute. "The tattoo," she repeated vacantly. Then she started to laugh.

It wasn't amusing laughter. She looked and sounded like she'd gone insane. He asked her what was wrong, and she tried to answer, but she couldn't form the words in between laughing and gasping for air.

Her eyes were still wild and he hated the fearful look he could see in them. He had wondered, idly, if Elizabeth ever let her control slip completely. Never had he connected such a thought with her being so terrified of the experience.

Elizabeth bit down on her lip and the crazy laughing subsided. "It's okay," he tried to reassure her. "We're just going to talk to Pira real quick and then we'll take you home, have Beckett look at you." He mentally urged Ronon to hurry the hell up already. The village wasn't that big.

Elizabeth wiped at the tears on her face with a shaking hand. Her whole body shuddered and he could hear her teeth chattering. "Woah, okay, come here." He pulled her into his arms, and Elizabeth tucked her body against his. "Easy, I've got you." She was sweaty and shivering, leaning heavily against him for support. John rubbed her back, trying to keep her warm. "I'll get you home as soon as I can. I promise."

He'd been trained in emergency procedures for anaphylactic shock because of Rodney's allergies, but this wasn't like any allergic reaction John had ever seen. He had a syringe of epinephrine in his field gear, but Elizabeth wasn't showing any classic signs of swelling or having trouble breathing, so he didn't think he should use it. His rudimentary knowledge of field medicine just didn't cover something like this. He needed to get Elizabeth to Beckett ten minutes ago. He wasn't sure how to help her, so he just stood there, holding her steady and waiting for Ronon to get back.

Elizabeth pressed herself closer to him, shifting so they were front to front, her face buried against his neck. Her right arm wound around his shoulders and held him tightly. He was just beginning to register that something was off when he felt her lips brush against his throat.

He knew, rationally, there was no way she had intentionally found that particular spot, the one alongside the tendon above his collarbone that always drove him crazy. It was just a coincidence, but she had found it and his body jerked at her touch.

John tried to pull away, but her arm was like a vise around his back. He could've broken her hold but it would require force and he didn't know how she would react to something that could be perceived as an attack. He didn't think fighting with him or running out of the cabin and into the woods was going to help matters, so he remained still.

Elizabeth's warm breath ghosted over his skin, across his jaw and then they were face to face with only a couple centimeters between her lips and his. He could see that her eyes were glassy and feverish now. Her body had stopped shaking. She was sweating again, her face shining in the lamp light, and heat was pouring off her. He could feel it everywhere they were in contact, where her breasts were pressed against his chest, where her hips were lined up perfectly with his, where her thigh was nestled along the outside of his leg. Her palm almost burned the back of his neck as her fingers ran through his hair.

Kiss the bride, he thought inanely.

No. This couldn't happen. Elizabeth was clearly in some kind of altered mental state. There were names for men who took advantage in a situation like this--

Names that apparently applied to him, because Elizabeth kissed him and he didn't stop her.

He tried not to respond, but she kissed him furiously and his resistance gave until it collapsed completely. Her lips were hot and soft and demanding and he couldn't refuse her. He could taste the salt from her skin on his own lips and images flashed through his head that he had no business conjuring. His fingers tightened on her back even as he cursed himself out with every foul name he could think of.

But Christ, who knew Elizabeth could kiss like this?

The kiss between them when they'd been possessed by those aliens hadn't been like this. It had been hard and brief and felt more like a threat than anything else. But that hadn't been them. That kiss had been pretty easy to push out of his mind. This was different.

Passion, was all he could think. Total, wanton, unadulterated passion.

His body didn't seem to care that what he was doing was a violation of a trust he was proud of and a friendship that was deeply important to him. He was reacting at a primal level to having a beautiful woman in his arms, kissing him with incredible intensity, who had apparently shed all inhibition and restraint.

Because she'd _lost her mind_ , he reminded himself desperately. For all he knew, she thought she was kissing someone else.

This wasn't real. It wasn't really Elizabeth, just like they weren't really married and John clung to that thought, until he made his hands move up her back. He reached her shoulders and, as gently as he could, pulled Elizabeth away from him.

They were both panting. Her mouth was red from kissing him and his body twitched again. He made himself look in her eyes and his heart ached.

She looked totally confused and a little afraid, which meant she'd come back to reality. He wasn't sure if she knew what had just happened. But she didn't let go of his shoulder. He hoped that was a good sign.

"Elizabeth?" His voice was rough and he had to clear his throat. "Can you understand me?"

She blinked. He could see she was trying to concentrate. Then her eyes widened and she doubled over and retched. He barely got out of the way before Elizabeth fell to her knees and began to vomit onto the floor.

If ever there was a blow to a guy's ego, it had to be having a woman kiss him and then throw up. Maybe it was karmic payback for not stopping it.

He moved to kneel alongside her, one hand on her back as she lost her lunch, and breakfast, and maybe even last night's dinner. The smell permeated the tiny space, and his own stomach rolled unpleasantly. He was really glad she'd kissed him before she started this, though if she'd puked first it probably would've been a lot easier to resist, he thought, realizing he was sounding a little nuts himself. Maybe he was in shock as well. Maybe he was reacting to whatever it was that had done this to Elizabeth, but not as badly.

He almost hoped so.

Ronon finally barreled back into the room with the Eidalan elders behind him. Pira immediately went to Elizabeth, who was still coughing but not bringing anything else up.

"Did you give her something?" John growled, putting all the force of his fear and anger into the question.

Marrin was pale, staring at Elizabeth. The priest shook his head. "No! We would never do such a thing!"

Pira felt Elizabeth's face gently. "Has she eaten anything?" Pira asked him.

Ronon handed John his own canteen. John held it so Elizabeth could drink some water and wash her mouth out. She spat automatically then started to sag. John wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled her over so she could lean against him rather than collapsing onto the dirt. "She's reacting to the tattoo dye. It has to be that."

Pira and the priest looked at each other while he watched them closely. "The dye is the same formula we have been using for hundreds of years. It is part of the ritual," the priest said.

But Pira was frowning. "There are stories, though, of people becoming ill after the binding ceremony. There are jokes, in fact, about regrets choking those who have been bound."

"Has anyone died?" Ronon asked, his voice dangerously low.

The look on Pira's face was enough to tell them the answer to that question was yes.

John looked at Pira, Marrin and the priest. His gut instinct said this was an accident. For all the crap these people had put him and Elizabeth through today, he hadn't gotten any sense of malevolence.

He had been wrong about such things before, though.

He looked down at Elizabeth. Her eyes were closed. He wasn't sure if she was still conscious. Her face was frighteningly pale and blood vessels were broken in tiny red patterns across her cheeks. John made his decision. "I need a sample of the dye, to take back so our healers can analyze it. We're going to the gate immediately."

"Of course. I will meet you on the way." The priest scurried from the room, moving quickly for a guy his age.

Marrin looked genuinely contrite. "I will summon the clan with torches to light the path to the ancestral ring. It is too dark to go down it safely and quickly." He gave John a brief nod and departed. Pira evidently was going to stay with them until they left.

Ronon holstered his gun. "I'll take her."

John hesitated for a heartbeat, but Ronon was stronger than him. He nodded and Ronon bent, lifting Elizabeth into his arms and cradling her like she was a child. John grabbed the rest of their gear and they hurried out of the cabin.

***

As soon as the gate opened, John was on the radio declaring a medical emergency. Ronon went through just ahead of him, and they swung in unison for the infirmary, blowing past the guards, who had to back up to avoid a collision. Beckett met them in the corridors. John explained that there had been a ritual ceremony, that he and Elizabeth had been injected with something and she was reacting to it. He listed off her symptoms, including the rapid changes in mood, the hallucinations and the heavy vomiting, even as Beckett was listening to her breathing and taking her pulse and the nurses were setting up an IV.

Through it all, John was careful not to let the "m" word slip out.

He pointed out the tattoo on Elizabeth's arm. Beckett's eyebrows went up slightly but the doctor was in business mode. "You said you were also exposed to the same substance? Did you get a sample of it?"

John held up the plastic bag which was snatched out of his hands by another doctor, presumably to be whisked off to a lab for study, and then he lifted his shirt sleeve. There was no way they were going to keep the matching tattoos quiet at this point anyway.

Beckett frowned. "We're going to need to take a look at you as well, Colonel." He nodded to one of the nurses, who urged John towards a bed. "You said you're not experiencing any similar symptoms?" Beckett looked at him critically. John had been triaged by the man enough times to know what he was thinking.

John sat down. "No. This is all just adrenaline, I think."

The nurse raised his sleeve and peeled off the band-aid. The tattoo was still bleeding and it looked a little red and irritated, but not that bad.

"Is there anything else you can tell me? Did you administer anything in the field?" Beckett asked, pausing next to the privacy curtain.

John shook his head, thinking of the epinephrine.

Beckett muttered, "All right then," and the curtain shut behind him. The nurse wrapped a blood pressure cuff around John's arm and he tried to calm down. Elizabeth hadn't moved at all on the trip to the Eidalan gate, and hadn't reacted when they'd gone through, but she was still breathing. They were home. Beckett was here. She'd be all right.

Before he could convince himself, Rodney nearly ran into the infirmary. "What happened?" Evidently he'd heard the medical emergency call and hustled from the lab.

The nurse tied a tourniquet around his arm to draw some more of his blood and John winced. Then he took a deep breath and started telling Rodney most of the story.

***

John stared at the floor, elbows on his knees and fingers tapping erratically. He'd been cleared but he couldn't leave the infirmary yet. There'd been no word on Elizabeth's condition, just nurses hustling back and forth and quiet discussions going on behind the drawn curtains. Ronon and Rodney were waiting with him, Rodney pacing back and forth while Ronon leaned stoically against the wall.

Beckett finally came out to the front area of the infirmary. "She's going to be fine," Carson said before anyone could ask. An audible sigh of relief went up. "She had an extreme and unusual reaction to a chemical in the dye. It wreaked havoc with her neurochemical balances, causing the mood swings and the vomiting. Fortunately it's not life-threatening, but she won't feel her usual self for a few days. We've had to re-hydrate her and it will take time for her immune system to eliminate the substance completely. Still, I think the worst is over."

"What about Sheppard?" Ronon asked. John had been poked and prodded thoroughly while Beckett worked to stabilize Elizabeth. His white blood cell count had been elevated but that was it.

Beckett shrugged. "The Colonel's system handled the chemical without trouble."

"Why?" John asked.

"Could be any number of things. Your body has been through a great deal since we arrived in Pegasus." That was an understatement. "The ancient gene may have something to do with it as well. I'll run more tests, but I might not be able to nail down a cause." Beckett looked at the group. "Elizabeth'll be asleep for the rest of the night, I expect."

With that unsubtle hint, Ronon nodded to John and left. Rodney mumbled something about going back to his lab, patted John awkwardly on the shoulder and also departed.

Once they were alone, Carson looked at John seriously. "You did the right thing, not administering the epinephrine. The way her body was reacting, her heart rate was dangerously high. An adrenaline shot might have killed her."

John swallowed. It had been just as close as he'd feared. "Can I see her? Just for a second?"

The doctor nodded and lead him over to the curtained-off area. Elizabeth was on a few monitors, and an IV was dripping quietly next to the bed. She was still pale and looked unusually fragile, but she seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

The last of his immediate worry finally eased. John slipped out of the curtains and with a nod to Beckett, headed for his quarters to shower and try to get some rest.

***

John slept better than he'd expected. Post-adrenaline rush he usually was kind of jumpy, and he had a lot of things to think about, but after showering and eating he managed to fall asleep for a good seven hours. He wondered if maybe his body was trying to tell him something, but decided to let Beckett worry about that kind of thing.

Teyla returned the next morning and he had to fill in for Elizabeth at a couple of meetings, so it was afternoon before he managed to get to the infirmary. Elizabeth was sitting up and looking almost back to normal, aside from the tiny red marks on her face over her freckles and the IV still hooked up to her arm.

Zelenka was sitting at Elizabeth's bedside, having obviously brought some food from the mess hall for her. He got up reluctantly when John appeared. "I should get back to work, and let you rest," he said to Elizabeth.

"Well, one of those things is likely to happen," Elizabeth observed wryly, looking at the papers in John's hands.

Zelenka disappeared, taking the lunch tray with him, and John sat down. Elizabeth reached for the files he was holding but John pulled them back out of reach. "Ah-ah, not yet. It's nothing that can't wait a while longer if you're not up to working."

Elizabeth shot him a look, which he figured meant 'When have I ever not been up to working?'

He nodded. "Yeah, I'll just leave these with Carson. He can give them to you when he thinks you're ready." John dropped the files on the floor next to his chair. Elizabeth actually pouted for a moment before leaning back against the pillow. He looked at her critically. There were circles under her eyes and she looked like she was on the third day of a three-day flu, but she was alert and upright. "You look better."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, at least you didn't ask how I was feeling."

He chuckled. "Been having some visitors?"

"I think Carson's considering trying to lock the doors or hide me. It's been a parade all morning."

"Well, you did give us quite the scare." The words came out more intensely than John had intended and the mood shifted abruptly.

Elizabeth looked down at her hands. "I don't really remember much," she said slowly. "Everything is so jumbled."

He debated with himself. He wanted to know, needed to know, but he wasn't sure what he was hoping to hear. "What's the last thing you do remember clearly?"

She frowned. "Walking to the visitor's cabin, I think? I remember it being very bright and hurting my eyes." She had been shielding her eyes during that walk, he remembered now. He hadn't realized at the time that anything was wrong with her. If he had paid closer attention... he pushed the thought aside. "After that it starts getting confusing. One second I was freezing, the next I was dying, it was so hot. And I kept seeing things that couldn't possibly be there."

"The Wraith?" he asked. "You thought a Wraith was in the cabin with us."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I think I remember that."

He braced himself. "And then what?"

The line appeared on her forehead that she always got when she was concentrating. "A lot of vomit?" She laughed ruefully. "At least that's what's the clearest. After that it's all black."

Something in her face or her voice told him that there was more, and he couldn't bring himself to just leave it alone. If she remembered hallucinating the Wraith, she probably remembered other things. "Elizabeth?" he prompted quietly.

Her green eyes glanced at him and then looked away. "I remember you, trying to keep me warm during one of the cold spells, telling me we'd go home soon." His throat went dry, because that had been right before she kissed him. He didn't know how they were going to deal with the kiss. Elizabeth had the excuse of her illness. He didn't have any excuse. A line had been crossed, and he was genuinely worried that their friendship, not to mention their working relationship, had been irreparably damaged.

But he didn't know how to start making it right.

The pause between them went on for too long, but when Elizabeth spoke, she only said, "I felt safer, knowing you were there."

He opened his mouth to deny it, because she shouldn't be feeling gratitude after what he'd done. But she looked at him steadily and then held out her hand and he took it automatically. Her skin was warm but not hot and not damp with sweat this time.

Her voice was low and soft and made him ache a little. "Thank you for taking care of me, John."

John thought he knew Elizabeth pretty well, maybe better than anyone else in the city did. But she was exceptionally skilled at concealing her private thoughts and emotions and he couldn't tell from her expression what she was really thinking. He was sure, somehow, that she remembered. He also knew that she was giving them both the escape of pretending she didn't. He could agree and just take what she said at face value and let it go.

It was probably better for them both this way, but that didn't explain the little surge of disappointment he felt.

"You're welcome," he said, his voice matching hers. "But we should try not to do that ever again, okay?"

That got him a little smile. "I will if you will," she said, squeezing his fingers.

They weren't going to discuss this again, he knew. Not any time soon, at least. This was how she wanted things to be. He pushed aside the hint of regret and squeezed her hand back. He hoped this also meant he was forgiven.

Elizabeth added, her voice going back to normal, "I'm also grateful that in all the chaos you were appropriately circumspect in your report." It took him a minute to realize what she meant. "Though I'm sure we're going to be hearing about family bonding rituals from everyone for a while."

"Well, I figured the tattoo thing was going to come out eventually," he shrugged, glancing at the white bandage on her arm, just visible under her hospital scrubs. "And it's not like we could hide them given what happened."

Elizabeth sighed a little dramatically. "No, I suppose not." She released his hand and looked up at the ceiling. "Though I can just imagine what Stephen Caldwell will say. Not to mention the SGC."

"Oh, like other off-world teams haven't done crazier stuff in the name of interplanetary relations," John scoffed. "I've read the mission reports." Elizabeth flashed a smile at him and went straight back to business.

"True. Speaking of which, we'll have to go back to Eidalos and settle the matter of the mineral deposits. I might even be able to parlay this whole thing into an advantage in the negotiations, offer to help them research this dye and prevent anyone else from getting sick."

He stood up. "You never quit, do you," he asked rhetorically. She just gave him a good approximation of his own innocent face. "You should try to rest, while you have the chance." He tucked the blanket around her without thinking about it. Elizabeth relaxed into the pillows without a protest, which told him plenty about how tired she still was. She looked pale and unnaturally vulnerable lying still against the white sheets. On impulse, he reached out and brushed her hair back from her forehead tenderly. It was the apology he hadn't spoken aloud.

Elizabeth closed her eyes as his fingers brushed against her skin. He saw her draw in a deep breath, felt his own heart speed up slightly. Then she opened her eyes and looked up at him.

They stared at each other for a moment.

Footsteps approached behind him, and he pulled his hand away and stuck it in his pocket.

It took an effort but he kept his voice casual, "I'll come back tonight, catch you up on the past couple of days of gossip, okay?"

Elizabeth nodded, curling up in the bed. John picked up the files to give them to Carson and left. He sighed to himself and out of sight in his pocket, he clenched his hand into a fist.


End file.
